


Dead or Alive

by HandMonsters



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Light Angst, Love Letters, Oneshot, Regret, Reunions, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 14:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17603453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandMonsters/pseuds/HandMonsters
Summary: Years. It had been years since he last replied to one of your letters. Years since you found out he was dead.So when the former King Gangrel appears in your village, you can't help but be a tiny bit annoyed...





	Dead or Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlrightyThenSpankYou](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=AlrightyThenSpankYou).



> Well, here it is! AlrightyThenSpankYou, I hope I've exceeded your expectations and enjoy the story...if you want anything changed blah blah blah be sure to say - I'll be more than happy to edit it to be more like your vision.
> 
> And to everyone else who reads this, I hope you enjoy the brain child of AlrightyThenSpankYou's brilliant imagination ^^

With a gentle sigh, you rest your head against the table, three fingers clasped tight over the golden ring…spinning it idly as you stared blankly at the blank parchment, quill laid out neatly beside the ink. How long had it been since you heard back from him? It seemed writing to him was all in vain but...what sort of wife would you be if you gave up on him just because he didn’t answer a letter or too, feeling a vein pop in your head as you grit your teeth, snatching the quill and thrusting it into the ink.

What sort if husband didn’t write back to his wife? Ruling his Kingdom or not, you wouldn’t forgive him.

Smirking, she held the paper, nails digging into it as she read the contents of his wife’s heart. Her plan working, each letter getting progressively more…interesting. It was shame she had to go, the feisty female proving her worth in words alone, but she was a threat to the King – even if he loved her…if anything, his affection for the commoner was the issue. 

“Aversa!” She calmly folded the paper back up, slotting it into its envelope and resealing it before he could arrive, the sound of his heels carrying down the hall telling her exactly how long it’d be before he arrived. “Aversa! Why are you stalling, we must leave now if we are to start the execution!” As he stormed into the throne room, she bowed politely to the King – the stress evident in his uptight body, tapping his fingers impatiently on his sword as he raised an eyebrow at her…the letter behind her back.

“What are you doing just standing around for? Here. You’re wasting my time.” 

“I was just pondering my Lord.” Holding out the letter she offered it to him, the King’s grip noticeably tightening on his sword, a scowl forming across his lips. “Whose head is going to roll for leaving this so carelessly on your throne?” Snatching the letter he ripped it from its envelope – the scowl the perfect façade for his true emotions, she thought as she saw the weakness in his eyes. 

“What does it say my Lord?” She inquired curiously, knowing just how cruel his wife’s words were…how much it must sting – but it was for his own good. For the good of Plegia. Mulling something over in his head with a furrowed brow he finished reading, gaze dancing across the words before him as he spoke.

“She’s not too pleased I haven’t returned any of her letters recently.” He growled, running his nails over the seam of the paper as he folded it back into two.

“And like I said my Lord, she does not how busy you are. In fact, is it not dangerous for her to be sending you love letters during times of war? If they were intercepted by the enemy and it got out she didn’t really worship the Grima. There’d be an uprising.” 

“Watch your tongue woman!” He barked – grip tight around the paper as it began to crumple in his hand. “If you weren’t my subordinate I’d execute you for treason here and now…you make it sound like you want my people to know of their Queen’s true faith.” She was walking a thin line, knowing her place was secondary to his love. Bowing politely she apologised.

“I’m simple mean to say it’s a danger for you both. She’s not only putting your reign at risk but her own life. If the stupid prince’s army managed to find out where she was then they might harm her.” He seemed convinced, eyes narrowed as he tapped his foot impatiently. With a hefty sigh he turned heel and strode off down the hall, beckoning to her as he went.

“What do you suggest then Avera?” Perfect. 

“If you so wish for my advice my Lord, then may I suggest you continue to follow my guidance and ignores her letters for now.” He threw her a cold look but nod. Letting out a sigh she strode to his side, daring to push her luck – throw him off course. Resting a hand against his arm she lingered by his side, pawing at his chest as she spoke.

“Surely a Queen should be here with her King anyway?” She joked, Gangrel shrugging her off  
as he picked up his pace.

“Surely you should know your place.” He spat, making her chuckle as he followed him out the castle. She knew her place alright. She was just doing her duty. The duty of a Queen. 

~

Staring into the void he savoured the warmth of the sun against his cold skin, gripping his waist tight – the pain he felt unlike anything he’d ever felt before…side wet with blood as it seeped from the wound that cut deep into his flesh…the sharp throbbing that reverberated from beneath his palm – aches and cuts hidden beneath his armour only acting to exacerbate his situation. He knew he had to move. Get up and get himself healed. He couldn’t die on the battlefield. He couldn’t die yet – with a grunt he rest against his elbow, lifting his head as the world danced around him. Cursing under his breath he soon found his gaze drifting the sandy plains, fallen soldiers laid dead around him – a sickening feeling consuming his insides as he stared at the bodies…unable to shake Aversa’s words from his head as he pushed himself up onto shaky legs. If he’d lost, then what’d happen to his wife? Bending over to pick up his sword he groaned, resting wearily on the steel crutch once it was to hand. He had to go…heal himself…he had to find her…if writing would endanger her life, he had to see her…even if he was a disgrace – someone unworthy to be called King…she was still his Queen.

You’d been so excited to receive the letter – literally jumping for joy as you took it from the courier’s hands, yet…their sullen face struck fear into your heart. Still, you’d thanked them gratefully. Returning inside to see what news had been brought to your attention, you’d stood in the doorway – tears threatening to fall the second you saw the handwriting – it wasn’t his…the very first sentence confirming your fears as your sister came sprinting through at the sound of your cries, escorting you to a comfy seat and consoling you…the letter soon removed from your grasp as she read it herself in horror.

‘Dearest (Y/N),

As King Gangrel’s closest adviser and subordinate, I am writing to inform you of the unfortunate news of his passing. During a battle against the Shepard's he fell on the battlefield and was unable to be saved. It is my sad duty to inform you of this truly heart-breaking occurrence and I hope it is of some consolation that my heart weeps with you in this dark time. 

May you find some peace in the time to come,

Aversa.’

~

Two years had passed since that fateful day.

The company had been travelling since the early hours of the morning, the sun high in the sky as it beat down on every individual member…yet everybody seemed so happy, moral high as they followed the Exalt at the head of the flock. He’d been lingering towards the centre of the group, still uneasy about being a Shepard, not daring to move as Frederick kept a stern eye on him. Everyone smiled so gaily but he could feel the animosity the surrounded him – Chrom and Robin the only members to have truly accepted him so far. Robin stood to his left whilst Olivia stood to his right, her bright smile visible as she rest a hand against her husband’s shoulder to speak, the Prince turning and nodding at her, her face dusted a light pink as she chuckled – feeling his heart sink as nostalgia enveloped him…able to picture (Y/N) stood beside him on their wedding day, her beautiful smile corrupting his wicked ways if only for a second, offering him the happiness and the will to change he’d so desperately wanted…if only she could see him now…but he’d promised himself after the war, when peace returned. He would find her. Chrom’s gaze had wandered from his wife, locking eyes with Gangrel – the Prince raising an eyebrow at him as he slowed.

“Is everything alright Gangrel?” He asked cheerfully. “You look a bit down.” He smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged off the comment. 

“It’s nothing to worry yourself with Chrom.” He replied, the Prince shaking his head as he left his friends side to join him as they walked. 

“Nonsense!” He declared, patting him on the shoulder with a broad grin. “You’re a member of this army now, even if you can’t turn to me you have people to turn to now if you’re concerned about anything.” Robin nod from the front, calling out over the group.

“We’ll be stopping at the next village to rest and resupply. You should take advantage of your time and speak to someone then.” Hands clasped tightly around one another as they rest against her chest, Olivia agreed with a weak smile.

“I’m sure once you have time to eat and relax you’ll feel a lot better…” she added bashfully, but it wasn’t that simple. He let out a sigh, eyes diverted to the hard path beneath him, Chrom tilting his head with a look of concern. Robin was right though, now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. With another pat, Chrom had left him side, offering some reassurance as he returned to his wife’s side. And so, the company continued their journey, between the outskirts of Plegia and the Halidom of Ylisse, having left an island off the coast of the Plegia to travel upwards…having left the island where they’d found him and offered a second chance at life. One better than living under the boot of a pirate.  
In the distance he could make out the shape of houses, fields of wheat yet to be harvested casting a golden glow across the oncoming horizon. He couldn’t wait to take the weight of his feet for an hour or two, losing himself in his thoughts as he made his way towards the village.

Coming to the outskirts of the lively village, Chrom halted the company, giving his usual low-down on breaks. Nosy villagers peered out their windows whilst others stopped in their tracks, smiles and kind words audible from their excited whispers whilst others looked on with less confidence, Gangrel hearing his name in some of the hushed utterances of nervous individuals. The group disbanded for the most part, whilst many followed Chrom through the centre. Children seemed to congregate around the group, eagerly begging for stories and to hold swords as their parents calling them back frantically – Olivia and Chrom held up by a group of particularly young children – a young boy and, presumably, his two sisters – a stick pointed towards the Prince.

“Might Exalt!” He cried, bravely puffing out his chest as his sisters huddled behind him. “I challenge – I ah, I challenge you to a duel!” The Prince rest his hands against his hips as he looked down on the young boy with a grin, Olivia chuckling as the boy’s sisters abandoned him, taking to her and taking her hands – the Exalt’s wife turning beetroot red as they bombarded her with compliments, asking if they could braid her hair. Nodding uncertainly, she was about to be dragged off when their mother ran up, scooping them all together and apologising profusely to the couple. The Exalt shaking his head as he laughed. Watching the events unfold around him, Gangrel stood idly on the path – hand flying to his weapon as Robin seemed to materialise beside him, narrow eyes falling upon the nearly drawn weapon.

“Old habits die hard don’t they Gangrel?” He joked, the tactician offering him a smile as he relaxed. 

“Yeah.” Was all he could muster as he ran his sword hand through his hair. “It never hurts to be cautious though.”

“Cautious yes, Gangrel, but you really need to ease up. We’re not on the battlefield. I understand it’s hard for you to adjust after everything that you’ve been through but everyone else has the same problem right now. The war should have been over years ago and yet here we are.” He explained with a sigh. “Something was bothering you though you said. Why don’t we find somewhere quiet and then you we can talk. Maybe it’ll put you at ease.” He doubted it, but he nod, Robin beckoning to him as they passed Chrom and his wife when the Exalt stopped the tactician.

“Robin, sorry, I need you briefly to discuss where we move from here. May I borrow you for a second? Apologies Gangrel.” Robin shot him an apologetic look, the King raising his hand.

“We have plenty of time. I need to go sharpen my blade anyway.” He reassured the tactician, scowling as he looked to the sky. “Try find a path with some shelter too or else I really will run you through.” Laughing, the tactician held his arms out with glee.

“But the weathers perfect! Maybe you should try to lighten up instead!” Raising an eyebrow at Robin he scoffed, turning to find some peace and quiet in the shade when he froze…  
previously concealed by the crowds around Chrom stood a stall of sorts towards the end of the village...unable to draw his eyes from the woman that ran it, tender joy on her face as she chat with her customers – unfazed by the arrival of the Exalt as she tended to her duties…he didn’t move, staring wide-eyed at the woman as if she would vanish when he blinked. Waving off the family, their arms full with vegetables, she turned her smile to her next customer…he hadn’t heard the concerned queries from behind him, the Exalt and his tactician meaning nothing to him as he knew – he knew it was her.

“(Y/N)!” He yelled, the entire village coming to a grinding halt as all eyes fell upon him. She’d stopped, her whole body rigid as she tilt her head…turning slowly as she gripped her own wrist, fist clenched tight as she parted her lips…muttering something under her breath as her smile turned to a broad grin.

“Gangrel!” It was her – without hesitation he flew – staggering as he failed to get his footing - (Y/N) breaking into laughter as she left her stand with equal enthusiasm. As light as a feather he sprang towards her, arms open wide to catch her in the tightest embrace when she suddenly leapt into the air…hurdling towards him like an arrow.

“Gangrel!” She roared, barely registering the anger in her voice as confusion hitting him like her feet as the sky appeared from nowhere, pain tearing through his face – hitting the floor with a thud as he rolled back, stopped by someone’s house. Landing on your side you grit your teeth, adrenaline and anger fuelling your veins, allowing you to ignore the pain your actions had caused you as you scrambled to your feet, Gangrel resting against his arm as he tried to push himself up.

“Oh no you don’t!” You barked, kicking your leg out and burying it firmly in his stomach as you planted your hands against the wall, watching him crumple beneath you with a choked gasp. Stamping your foot against his back you bent down, taking a fistful of fiery hair and pulling his head up, forcing him to rise. With him on his knees you pushed him against the wall, granting him another sharp kick to the stomach before crouching. 

“Don’t think you can go (Y/N)-ing me like I’m some sort of whore! I’ll make you wish you really were dead you goddamn bastard!” Eyes locked with his, he only fuelled your fire as he beamed sheepishly: taking his collar and promptly slamming your head against his, bearing through the pain as you clenched a tight fist, raising it back.

“Do you think I’ll forgive you as easy as that?!” A hand snatched your arm – stopping you from hurting him any further as you turned to see the culprit. A mess of white hair hung across the strangers face as purple eyes looked at you with concern.

“Stop – (Y/N)…I don’t know what’s happening but stop, there’ll be no violence here, you’re setting a terrible example!” He exclaimed, letting go of your arm as he felt it relax. Other hand still firmly clasping the dead King’s collar you stood, choking him as threw daggers at him – unable to stay angry as his chest heaved, a drunken smirk on his face as he raised an eyebrow at you, half lidded eyes bearing no resentment for you…feeling your cheeks burn you shoved him aside. Realising everything had gone quiet…deathly quiet. The horrified faces of war hardened hero’s staring, jaws slack in your direction, the Exalt speechless as a pink haired woman clung to his arm – buried in his shoulder as she tried to shield herself from what had happened. Your sister hanging out the window with a smug smile, motioning to Gangrel as the stranger helped him up. Vein popping in your temples you folded your arms across your chest with a sigh.

“Sorry.” You stated bluntly, but you weren’t apologising to Gangrel as he cracked his back, rubbing his cheek where you’d caught him with the drop kick. “You came to here to rest right? You must all be starved, let me cook for you. It’s the least I can do for causing a scene.” The stranger seemed ready to object when you shook your head.

“It’s nothing really. Friends of Gangrel’s are friends of mine. And it seems I have some explaining to do.” Turning to your dearly beloved you grit your teeth, forcing a grin as he shrunk into his shoulders. “Same goes for you mister. I want some answers. Lots of answers, in fact, you can help me cook can’t you?” It wasn’t a question and he knew it, nodding as your curtseyed politely to the stranger.

“Now if you’ll excuse us we have to get to work, you’re very welcome to rest at mine whilst you’re waiting but it’ll take a while to cook. That’s the Exalt isn’t it? Chrom…it’s an honour to serve royalty, but…never mind…what’s your name?”

“Robin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand, which you shook vigorously, leaving the dazed boy as you led Gangrel back to your house without another word. Arriving at the door, your sister opened it, winking at Gangrel as she welcomed him. 

“You have no idea how long she’s wanted to do that.” She chuckled as you gave her a playful shove. 

“Don’t tell him that…he wasn’t supposed to know I thought about him.” You sighed, hiding yourself behind him and pushing him into the kitchen, sister following merrily. Briefly explaining to her the offer you’d extended to the army you could see the horror on her face – quickly telling her she didn’t have to help cook…just, get drinks if anyone came round and tend to the stall. With that she clapped her hands together, turning tail as she rest a hand against the wall. 

“Well, I’ll let you two catch up.” She chirped. “Have fun lovebirds.” It pained you that the pair of you gave her the exact same look of disgust…left alone with Gangrel as he kept his distance from you, knowing all too well he was in the doghouse. Letting out a hefty sigh, you crouched down, pulling out whatever food you could find and laying it on the table – there was some beef…lots of veg, cornflower and…luckily you kept enough broth left over from previous meals to feed an army. Stew it was…pulling out a knife you offered it to Gangrel.

“Peel all those potatoes then cut them in half, then into four.” You said simply, motioning to the crate beside him. Doing as he was told you didn’t know where to start as you began preparing the rest of the food, an uncomfortable silence hanging over the pair of you. Feeling as you were really a hundred worlds apart. But…you weren’t going to stay like that. Uncertainly taking in breath, you opened your mouth to speak when he broke the ice.

“I’m sorry…(Y/N).” Hesitating, you felt the faint traces of a smile form across your lips.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it Gangrel. When I left it seemed like everything was going to be okay. You returned…some of my letters and I didn’t mind having to come back home with the war but…why did you stop? At first I thought maybe my letters weren’t reaching you but…all of them? I understand you were busy but surely you had the time to tell me that at the very least…” gritting his teeth, a bitter look crossed his face as he kept his eyes on the task you’d given him. 

“I was stupid. My adviser, Aversa, she told me not to write back and I listened to her. She said it was to keep you safe. I’ve had years to think about it though and I realised she was just controlling me…she didn’t want me speaking to you. You know the Grimleal would have killed you if the found out you worshipped Naga – it only made sense if it got out in one of your letters. I…” he trailed off as you listened patiently, “I feared you’d let it slip, kept thinking you might be stupid enough to do so. I was paranoid. I forgot you’d never do something like that and you’ve proved many times you’re capable of taking care of yourself.” Digesting his little speech you didn’t know how to feel, torn between two extremes as one side of you wanted you to ram the knife you held into him whilst the other just wanted to burst into tears…able to hear the pain in his voice as he spoke. He was sorry and there was no denying that but it’d been…years. 

“I believe you.” You told him. “Aversa wrote to me once. To tell me you’d passed away. Was that to excuse you from writing back?” He seemed confused by what you said, giving you a curious look when it clicked.

“Right. No, if she wrote to you when I think she wrote to you then she would have thought I was dead. I was bested in battle. Knocked unconscious after I was attacked. When I woke up nobody alive remained…” you listened to him explain what had happened, how he’d been rescued by the pirates only to be kept as a slave. How he’d come to realise how terrible he’d been to his army, and those he loved, including you when eventually Chrom and his army appeared…managing to persuade him to join them. And then they’d travelled to your village. And then you’d beaten him up. Fire going and most of the food in the pot, he finally finished before you could start tidying away, the clustered counter as busy as your mind as you struggled to come to terms with reality. 

“I know apologies aren’t enough to make it up to you but I’m truly sorry (Y/N). I hope you can forgive me.” Something in his eyes was different to the Gangrel you once knew…softer almost. Stood by the fire you’d both kept yourself to yourself when he reached out, making you flinch as he went to take your cheek…but…letting him rest his palm against you, you averted your eyes, brows furrowed as you fought the fury within. 

“I can’t forgive you…all this time not hearing from you, finding out you were dead and spending years of my life thinking I was a widow, mourning someone I…I, I hated you, you know?” You explained, fighting the knot that crept into your throat. “I hated myself for hating you because even if you never replied I still loved you Gangrel…I still do – that’s why I’m so goddamn mad at you. I’m sorry for kicking and hitting you…and head-butting you…but I never thought you were coming back.” You’d fought and failed to keep yourself from crying, the tears trickling down your cheek as you rest your hand against his, leaning into it as he furrowed his brows…opening his other arm welcomingly and letting you move closer on your own accord – not hesitating as you threw your arms around him, burying yourself in his armour as you broke down, unable to stop yourself from crying as he cradled you in his arms, stroking your hair gently.

“Don’t hate yourself (Y/N)…I deserved everything you gave me out there…I’m just happy to have you in my arms again.” Sides shaking as you sobbed, you lent back, managing a weak smile through your tears.

“You’ll have to let me heal you…I probably broke something…” he chuckled, wiping the tears from your cheeks as he did.

“I’m certain you did.” Giggling you felt your cheeks flush as you savoured his warmth…far more satisfying than the fire’s. 

“Well!” You exclaimed, perking up and pushing yourself up, the former dead, former King held your gaze unwavering – hands falling to your waist as you draped yours around his neck. “There’s something else I’ve been wanting to do all these years too if you don’t mind…” raising an eyebrow at you he lent down, brushing his nose against yours and sending a shiver down your spine. 

“No objections.” He purred – making you chuckle, a hand moving to his cheek as you pulled him forwards, resting your lips against his and savouring the moment. Letting out a throaty purr he wrapped his arms tighter around your body, almost lifting you from the ground as he lent back, your eyes meeting for a brief second before he kissed you again – both of you thinking the same thing as your tongues met – if only for a second.

“Cooking not fucking!” Your sister cried from the doorway, making you yelp as you were quick to abandon the kiss, still wrapped in his arms are you glanced over your shoulder bright red.

“Language!” You barked bashfully as she sniggered. 

“Cooking!” Begrudgingly freed from your husband’s grasp you went to the counter to clear up as you’d originally intended, shooting daggers in your sisters wake, the sly fox vanishing off to cause mischief elsewhere – Gangrel’s arms soon around you again as he hugged you from behind, body pressed against yours as he lent over your shoulder with a toothy grin, obviously spurred on by her words, your sister having planted ideas in his head you didn’t have the time for.

“Come to think of it (Y/N).” He hummed sweetly as you dragged him around the kitchen with you, ignoring his advances. “This is the first time I’ve ever been here. You should give me a tour. Where’s your room? Surely it can’t be better than the one you had at the castle?” Tripped over by his feet you clung to his arm.

“Sounds like fun…” you soothed, playing with him a little, smirking evilly to yourself, “there’s the front door, then the dining area and this is the kitchen, if you carried on through there and turned into the other hall on the right is my sister’s room and the left is mine. It’s nothing like the room at the castle and the bed’s only a single. Anything else you’d like to know.” 

“Yes actually. Could you fix a broken heart?” 

~

Somehow everyone had congregated in your house, neighbours have kindly offered you cutlery to help dish out the food to the army. Everyone sat around chattering happily amongst themselves, generally sat in twos or threes. Your sister having gone to chat to…Inigo you believed his name was, her dubious intentions only amplified as you found out he was the son of the Exalt. Having explained the situation it seemed things had calmed down a bit, Robin and Chrom both amused by your marriage to Gangrel, asking if you’d been the one to propose to him – Olivia, the Exalt’s wife, timidly adding it was lovely to see someone cared for him, Gangrel looking rather offended as she corrected herself.

“I - I, I ah, I only meant…that…when you were a bad guy someone still looked out for you!” She tried desperately to explain, laughter erupting all around. It wasn’t long before everyone had finished eating; the endless compliments to the chef making you feel pretty good…pulling your sister aside as you carried through all the plates to speak to her. Her response what you’d expected, but it was only polite to ask, giving her a big hug as you scampered to your room. Taking you a few vials and a few herbs you placed them in your pouch, tying it tight around your waist, axe fastened tightly with it and staff to hand as you re-entered the dining room.

“Chrom!” You exclaimed, catching the Exalt’s attention as you perched beside Gangrel at the table, straddling the bench as you took to healing Gangrel, finally alleviating him of whatever pain you’d caused.

“Is there room for another in the Shepards?” His eyes lit up.

“Of course. You seem like you can take care of yourself, and you can heal too. You’re a very welcome addition.” Thanking him, you jabbed the staff into your husband’s side, smirking at him as he scowled at you.

“Someone’s got to take care of you.” His scowl turned to an embarrassed smile as he pulled you into his side. 

“You’re more likely to kill me than take care of me…but thank you.”

And soon, the company set off. Travelling until the sun sank and the sky turned dark, hundreds of stars glistening in the night sky as camp was set up for the night…allowing you to fall asleep in his arms for the first time in years, no longer have to wait to hear him tell you how much he loved you. And, you told him, if you didn’t hear it every day, he’d regret the day he was ever born. Sure you’d forgiven him – but you were still annoyed.  
Something he knew all too well.

But what did he expect from the former Queen of Plegia?


End file.
